"The endless fallen trees rust down, and the endless Yangtze River rolls." Yang Fan sighed: "His life is all in the poems he left behind, representing the realist poets."

Aunt Thirteen frowned. Why do I always feel that I am illiterate in front of Xiaofan?

The poet he mentioned is not worthy of the poets I know.

Liu Qianqian felt even more ignorant. She could barely accept the poet who could write poems such as "I will be on the top of the mountain and see the small mountains" and "The endless fallen trees are rustling down, and the endless Yangtze River is rolling."

I have never heard of these two lines of poetry.

Too embarrassing.

It's a great shame.

"What is this poet's name?" Aunt Thirteen asked Yang Fan.

A hint of spirit appeared in Yang Fan's eyes and said, "The Poet Saint Du Fu."

Aunt Thirteen was stunned, Poet Saint Du Fu?

Which Du Fu and who got the title?

Why have I never heard of this poet?

"Is there no such poet in the textbook?" Liu Qianqian asked.

"No, he has never appeared in elementary school textbooks or university textbooks, whether it is before or now." Yang Fan said.

Liu Qianqian breathed a sigh of relief: "I said, even if I don't remember the poets that appeared in the textbook, I will still have some impression of them when I say them."

Aunt Thirteen asked Yang Fan: "When Du Fu was young, what are the two poems he wrote?"

Yang Fan said, "How is Dai Zongfu? Qi and Lu are still green. The creation is beautiful, and the yin and yang are cut off and the morning. The old clouds are born with the eyes, and the return birds are coming to the top. They will reach the top and overlook the small mountains."

Aunt Thirteen and Liu Qianqian fell into a brief silence.

Then he looked at each other and saw the embarrassment and embarrassment in the other's eyes.

Still less reading.

Like Nalan Xingde and Tsangyang Gyatso, they have never been used in textbooks, and their reputation and poetry are rarely known to people.

Later, the Internet became more developed, and people who liked to read moved their poems online so that more people could know their existence.

After all, the textbooks are limited in length, and those who write textbooks, in addition to considering the literary value and educational significance of the works, will also make some excellent works impossible to be seen by students because of their contact and preferences.

Most students are dizzy by the textbooks and in-class studies, and rarely read extracurricular books, so naturally they do not have the knowledge to read a lot of books.

"You gave the saint of poetry to others, right?" Liu Qianqian asked Yang Fan. There was no reason why such a poem was not heard by herself.

"No." Yang Fan asked: "When you heard this poem, did you not expect some places you have been to?"

Before Liu Qianqian could answer, Aunt Thirteen said, "Huangshan? Mount Tai?"

Not to mention all the 5a scenic spots in China, at least most of them are famous, such as Huangshan. They have been to Shisan and Liu Qianqian when they were in school.

Since they are sensible, they of course travel around and gain knowledge when they go to school for holidays.

Which of the poets in the 300 Tang poems was not wandering around and wandering around?

Read thousands of books and travel thousands of miles.

A poetic immortal like Li Bai even lived in most of China throughout his life. In ancient times, when transportation was extremely inconvenient, it was very exaggerated.

"Well, it's Mount Tai, this poem written by Du Fu when he was climbing Mount Tai." Yang Fan was very satisfied with Aunt Thirteen, a very smart woman.

Liu Qianqian probably was still confused, thinking about whether it was the Nanshan Mountain or the Fairy Mountain in the mountain city.

"Oh, I remember that I really feel like climbing Mount Tai is such a majestic feeling." Liu Qianqian said.

Aunt Thirteen looked at Yang Fan suspiciously and asked, "Where are the two poems in the last two lines?"

Yang Fan thought for a while and said, "The wind was strong, the sky was high, the apes roared and mourned, and the white birds flew back. The endless fallen trees rustled down, and the endless Yangtze River rolled. The sad autumn was always a guest, and the illness was on the stage alone for more than a hundred years. The hardships and bitterness of the frost hairs, and the turbid wine glass was stopped."

Liu Qianqian exclaimed: "There is such a talented poet who is not well-known to the world. The person who compiles the textbooks is really blind."

Aunt Thirteen pinched Yang Fan and said, "Did you make it yourself? There is no such a poet?"

After Aunt Thirteen reminded her, Liu Qianqian woke up.

This is really possible.

"You have discovered this." Yang Fan smiled and said, "It's still difficult for Aunt Thirteen to read a lot, so it's not easy to deceive. In our history, there is indeed no poet Du Fu."

"Does these two poems not exist?" asked Aunt Thirteen.

"It didn't exist before, it exists now." Yang Fan said.

Not long after he finished speaking, he slanted his eyes.

A hand reached out from under the pillow and pinched the most flesh and the most stressful part of his body.

Treating people like Thirteen is useless, and a nice word is worth a million yuan.

If Liu Qianqian hadn't been there, Thirteen would have sat up and bullied him now.

He raised his butt and Yang Fan sat down with the hand.

Thirteen's eyes widened and began to try to pull back his hand.

"I lied to me again, I trust you so much!" Liu Qianqian also stretched out her hand and pinched Yang Fan's arm.

It didn't hurt much, and Yang Fan didn't care about Liu Qianqian, saying, "If you are cheated, it means you have less study. Don't always watch videos online to watch those useless news such as the sows that have climbed trees. Read more useful books. Now is not the time for you to entertain. When you are old, you don't have to work hard for your career. You can relax and entertain, see the world, and enjoy your life."

"You are so scammer that you can't defend against. Didn't Aunt Thirteen be deceived by you at the beginning?" Liu Qianqian said unconvincedly.

Yang Fan lifted his butt.

Thirteen then pulled out his hand, covered it quietly, rubbed it again and again.

"Guoguo, it's time to go to bed." Yang Fan stood up.

The cartoon just ended, and it was time for Guoguo to go to bed.

"Are you going to sleep?" Yang Fan took her hands back to the room. Guoguo raised her head while walking, saying, "Dad, I don't want to sleep yet. Can I play for a while?"

"No, there are many activities tomorrow. Don't you have a dance show? Go to bed early and have enough sleep to have fun tomorrow." Yang Fan said.

"Oh, then sleep. Dad will remember to come and celebrate the holiday with me after get off work tomorrow." Guoguo and Yang Fan entered the bathroom. After Yang Fan unscrewed the faucet of the washbasin, she put her hands down to wash.

After washing her hands, she turned off the faucet and went out with Yang Fan.

Walking to the bed, taking off your shoes, the little girl climbed up and lay down: "Dad, what story will be about tonight?"

"Tell the story of "The Little Match Girl"." Yang Fan sat down beside the bed.

"Wait for us a while." Aunt Thirteen and Liu Qianqian also came into the house, and they also wanted to hear the story told by Yang Fan.

His story is suitable for all ages.

The plot may be a bit naive, but it feels very comfortable to listen to it, and it is not an exaggeration to say it is fascinating.

After more than ten minutes.

After telling the bedtime story, Guoguo fell asleep, Yang Fan got up and went back to his room.
Chapter completed!